


Warped Steel

by Chamaemelum



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate History, Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Science Fiction, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 11:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14043648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chamaemelum/pseuds/Chamaemelum
Summary: Tae Gador is an unlucky person. Born in an oppressive country with toxic air, only to be spat out into the world, optimistic, and on death’s doorstep.





	1. Chapter 1

I was getting so sick of this. I never wanted to be here. I never wanted to be doing this. I was a pastry chef, not a killer, and today I wasn’t even that. No honor and glory for you when you’re getting to the end of a stomach bug. Ah, my commander’s words were so clear to me, now. “Tae, your body’s weak, your mind probably is too. Scrub the hangar floor. Try not to have too much fun.”

So I scrubbed. Even broke out some surplus knee pads, so my peasant joints didn’t offend the floor or something. Mostly, I didn’t want to get bruised, or scuff my uniform too badly. Today, I was learning a couple valuable lessons: That you really couldn’t get oil out of concrete, and that you definitely couldn’t get it out with water. So far, I’d had the most success with a mix of sand, and petroleum jelly. Like dissolves like, and the sand helped scuff the layer of grime on top of the oil up enough that the jelly could actually get into the concrete. Eventually, I realized I’d gotten desperately hungry. Everyone else was either doing scouting runs, supply drops, or gods-only-know in the equipment yard, and there probably wasn’t going to be a coordinated lunch for me. It was probably best for me to manage that myself, see if I could scrounge up something more than edible, even. I got up, and had almost made it to the door in the back wall, by the scrap heap, because nobody could be bothered to put their trash outside, when I heard something that made me spin on my heel. There was the deafening BOOM that came with hypersonic travel, then a disproportionately quiet hiss, accompanying a series of increasingly quiet sonic booms. I assumed that one of the scouts was back, and wanted to compensate for something, but there was really only a moment to assume. I couldn’t really tell what happened next, there was just a deafening explosion, or, as I would layer learn, series of explosions.

When I woke up, it was bad. Just so bad. For a few seconds, the world was a wash of light and shadow, indistinct shapes blending together. And sound? What sound? The world was a silent wasteland, or, more likely, my ears weren’t doing so great. The next thing that hit me was just that everything hurt, and pretty bad. If you’ve ever had really bad cramps, it was something like that. You can tell roughly where it hurts, but you feel the pain everywhere. I closed my eyes, kept breathing, and tried to put things together.

What happened?  
-Spontaneous fuel explosion. It happens sometimes.  
-Some jackass lit up where they really shouldn’t have.  
-We got bombed.  
-I honestly don’t know.

After my vision cleared, it was clear what had happened. The hangar was basically gone. Scraps of sheet metal and plane parts were everywhere. And me? I looked down at myself. Oh gods.

I was bad off. My uniform was shredded, more or less, and what I could see was starting to soak with blood. That was enough for me, didn’t want or need to know more. Then I heard a creaking coming from above me. As my vision finally focused again, I was able to look up. A chunk of sheet metal and a heavy support attached to it were dangling above me. Oh shit. I decided to make sure my arms worked, by attempting to pull myself out of the way of that bad situation. I reached behind myself, and attempted, through the massive, aching, pain, to pull myself backwards, under some safe roofing, but my efforts were immediately stopped. A stabbing pain ripped its way through my abdomen, making everything else seem utterly pitiful by comparison. I think I screamed a bit, but I know that I felt tears rolling down my cheeks. I had to move, though. I reached again, and pulled myself further back, then basically went limp. It was too much. Fortunately, it looked like I was safe, so I let myself break down.

I was just wailing. My throat was only allowing something of a dull rasp out, now, as tears streamed down my cheeks. This was horrible. I was going to die, in the middle of nowhere, alone. The last part bothered me most, disturbing me so much that I was able to get a few pained noises out of my throat, now and then. My eyes fell closed, I was desperate to ease the pain. Somewhat absently, I placed my hands over my stomach, gently rubbing it, barely aware that this only brought on stinging waves of more discomfort. I was like that for a while. Eventually, I think I passed out.

When I woke up, though, there was someone else, with a hand on my throat. I instantly panicked, trying to scream, and push them away. I did neither, scarcely able to do more than open my eyes and look around. He looked somewhat shocked. Then I noticed he was wearing an enemy uniform. He blinked a few times, before turning his head over his shoulder and yelling behind himself.  
“Jordan! We’ve got a live one! Won’t have him for much longer if you ain’t quick, though.”  
Oh shit. That couldn’t be good. The soldier above him quickly patted me down, taking care to avoid his abdomen, while still making sure I was unarmed. He spoke again, now seemingly directly to me.  
“Hey, what’s your name?”  
I swallowed, trying to clear my throat up a bit.  
“Tae Gador. I don’t know anything, I don’t want t-“  
“It’s okay. You’ve gotta get off death’s doorstep before you worry about what happens next. Just keep breathing for me.”  
“W-why are you doing this?”  
He drew a knife, and I think I would have flinched, if I had it in me. Fortunately, he just cut away at my shredded jumpsuit, exposing my torso. He grabbed a steel bottle from his belt, and unscrewed the lid.  
“All sorts of treaties against bombing populated infrastructure. Anyway, brace yourself. This is gonna suck, but the medics are gonna want to see what shape you’re in, and there’s just too much blood.”  
Oh shit. I wished I hadn’t looked to see what he was talking about. It was just all bright red. He started pouring the contents of the bottle over my stomach, the water rinsing away the blood and dust. It stung horribly, but the coolness was a bit soothing once I got past it. A saner version of myself might have thrashed or screamed, but all I could manage was a whimper or two. I just didn’t have the energy. I heard footsteps sifting through the debris. Soon, there was an imposingly large man standing over me, then kneeling beside me. Admittedly, though, when you’re bleeding out on the ground, anyone can be imposingly large. He looked me over, and turned towards the other guy.  
“Look, I can’t fix Swiss cheese. I can make it more comfortable while we get it to someone that can, though.”  
“Fair enough. Do that.”  
I took this opportunity to actually look at myself. To my horror, I’d been, for lack of a better word, shredded. I didn’t want to count how many things wrong I saw, but there were ragged holes that’d been punched into me by assorted shrapnel. I wasn’t sure how deep things went, but there were places where I could see glints of steel in the returning blood. I started hyperventilating, panic truly setting in as I realized how bad off I was. I started to open my mouth, before someone shushed me, and moved my head to the side. It felt like something brushed up against my neck, which I thought was odd, until a moment later, when a pleasant warmth started spreading across my body, and I didn’t care anymore. It wrapped itself around me, the stabbing pain evaporating with it, my vision blurring a bit. What use was seeing, anyway? I let my eyes fall closed, and my quickened breathing eased. It was like I was being embraced by something higher than myself, and I felt incredibly safe. Somewhere far off, I heard two people speaking.  
—————————————————————  
Jordan turned to me, opening his pack and grabbing a jar of coagulant powder.  
“You’ll have to be quick, that was the last vial of Bliss we’ve got.”  
“Of course. You work your magic, I’ll take a look around back, make sure he’s it.”  
I started moving away from the two of them. I’d never seen anything like that, and it had to be wrong to just leave him there. Shooting enemy combatants was one thing, they signed up for that, and so did I, but letting some unarmed mechanic bleed out? No way I was going to stand by and watch that. A glance around the equipment yard behind the hangar didn’t show much of anything. A few discarded lunches and packs. Whoever was here had probably gone, or I’d have known about them by now. I didn’t know what I was going to say to actually get this guy to a doctor, but they wouldn’t turn him back if I brought him, and we couldn’t really be punished for taking him. He was technically our prisoner, but he sure wasn’t going anywhere, so restraints weren’t necessary for now. He also wasn’t hostile, so it wasn’t likely he’d need them at all. He might even be able to be processed as a defector, but that was rather optimistic. He might not want to defect, he might not be deemed disloyal enough, he might not... it didn’t matter. Every second I stood and thought was a second less of comfort he’d have. This wasn’t what I signed up for, but it was what was right to do. I walked back towards Jordan, now seeing Tae looking a lot better. He firmly patted the drugged man’s shoulder, causing him to stir a bit.  
—————————————————————  
I felt almost the way you do right before falling asleep. Warm, and comfortable, and safe. Something had been happening to me, I wasn’t sure what, for a bit, but a moment of clarity hit, and I realized the medic had been working on me. I noticed his hand on my shoulder, and faintly heard him talking.  
“There you go. Have a look, now. You’re looking a bit more human.”  
I did what he suggested, blinking the blurriness out of my vision. Where there was a minefield of wounds before, all I could see was clean bandage, neatly wrapped around me. That helped reassure the parts of my altered mind that were still panicked. Good enough for me. I was absolutely exhausted, though. I let my head fall back, and started to drift off, as I felt my arms and legs being lifted.

I knew it had been some time, when I woke up. I felt weak and sluggish, and my right arm was sore. There was a dull ache where I’d been hit, that was slowly spreading, growing in both sides and intensity. It probably wouldn’t be long before it got unbearable, again. I looked aimlessly around, trying to get a sense of where I was. The first thing that hit me was the smell, though. It was pretty nasty, a mix of rubbing alcohol, and something indescribable, but tolerable. Between that, and the IV line running into my arm, seemingly part of an ongoing blood transfusion, I decided that this was probably some kind of hospital, likely a temporary one. The paper curtain between me and the rest of whatever else was going on also hinted at that. It was absolutely silent, though. Not a footstep, rustling of papers, or moaning of another injured person. I knew I wasn’t deaf, I could hear myself breathing. I really didn’t have long to ponder this, though, as a woman pushed the curtain aside, and poked her head into my room.  
“The surgeons will be with you shortly. If you try to leave, you’ll be restrained.”  
“Why is it so quiet, here?”  
She looked at me like I was an idiot.  
“Silencing fields, but I guess you wouldn’t know that.”  
She left, and pulled the curtain shut, leaving me with my thoughts, again. My dad had always said that technology was better outside our country, I guess this is what he was talking about. The pain was really starting to peak, now, a deep stabbing sensation making itself ever more apparent. I groaned, weakly, starting to breathe heavier. The space I was in wasn’t terribly small, at least. The curtain parted again, letting in four people, one of which set up a table, and started laying out surgical implements, also setting down a bucket, and rolls of cotton bandage. I was, understandably, nervous, but also pretty desperate. I started nervously talking.  
“S-so, I guess you’re just gonna knock me out, or something, and I’ll be all set?”  
The oldest of the four, also the only one in any sort of scrubs, snorted. I noticed he was only minimally protected, almost seemingly more for his protection than mine. His gloves certainly weren’t sterile, at this point, he’d touched several things since entering.  
“We don’t have enough drugs to spare any for the enemy. Maybe I’ll give you something if you tell us anything useful. There’s no way you’re as dumb as you claim to be.”  
I sat up, a bit. Despite my lethargy, I was now horrified.  
“What the hell?”  
I was more or less immediately pushed back down, and two of the others grabbed my arms and legs, holding my legs down, and pulling my arms above my head, holding my wrists together. I kicked, and pulled against them, to no use. I didn’t have much fight left in me, really. I screamed for help, tears starting to roll down my cheeks. This couldn’t be happening. This just couldn’t be. It had to be illegal or unethical or whatever. My bandages were cut off, and he looked at my wounds, grumbling through his mask.  
“Looks like they’ve got the bleeding stopped, but you’re all filled up with coagulant powder. Can’t have that, you know?”  
He had almost a playful tone, and he slapped my cheek. He picked up the bucket.  
“It’s a shame, you know. You’re a cute little bastard. Might’ve managed to get a partner, before you got yourself blown up.”  
He dumped it over my abdomen, and I swallowed a scream. It was absolutely frigid water, and I suppose it got the job done. By the time the water had finished running over me, it was tinged with blood. Mission accomplished, I guess.  
“I suppose I could’ve been gentler on that, but you haven’t given me a decent reason to. Tell me something useful, and I’ll help you out.”  
I caught my breath, and responded.  
“I’m just a scout pilot, I don’t know anything you don’t know. I tell people things, they don’t tell me things.”  
He picked up a pair of forceps.  
“Interesting. So, what have you told people so far?”  
I tried to squirm away from him, only to have him place his hand firmly on my chest, which was uncomfortable for me in a good number of ways. This guy was disturbingly intimate about making me feel pain.  
“I-I haven’t said anything! I got deployed last week, and immediately came down with a stomach bug. I’ve been scrubbing floors for the last few days, but that’s it.”  
“Wrong answer, kiddo.”  
He grasped a shard of metal that was visible at the surface with the implement, before pulling on it. I screamed, trying to hold still, to minimize my own pain. I couldn’t tell what was happening, but after a moment, it stopped, and he placed a gloved hand around the site.  
“That’s unfortunate. Looks like we’ve got an iceberg situation. Get me a scalpel, would you?”  
The assistant who wasn’t holding me down did as he asked, and next thing I knew, he was cutting into my body, lengthening the wound. I screamed again, my voice growing quieter and more ragged from overuse. Suddenly, it stopped, only to be replaced by a hard tug, and then... sort of an odd relief. Like a pressure had been removed from me. The net feeling was still pretty awful, though.  
“Better make sure that one’s really clean.”  
He dropped the bit of twisted metal on my ribs, before plunging the forceps back into me, probing around in my abdomen. All I had left to give him were a few whimpers as I was overwhelmed with pain. I rolled my head from side to side, trying to find some outlet for what I was feeling. As I did, I caught the face of the attendant who was handing the surgeon his tools. He looked, without a doubt, disturbed. He withdrew the forceps, and started digging in another wound.  
“You know, I can’t do anything to help with the pain until you make yourself useful.”  
I didn’t even bother trying to talk to him. It was pointless. He poked my cheek with the bloodied forceps, pushing my head to the side. I groaned softly, still crying.  
“Nothing? Oh well. You’re really doing this to yourself, you know. I’m a good guy, but you’re keeping me in a bad situation. If you want to start being a good guy, all you have to do is tell me the truth.”  
He took hold of something else inside me, and started twisting it, even pushing it in deeper. I started wailing, writhing in pain, before it was ripped out of me. I couldn’t see straight, or think straight, really. I don’t remember what started pushing me over the edge, but I know I started to feel faint, and used what lucidity I had to embrace that somewhat. It didn’t take long before I was out.

For the rest of what was, quite blatantly, torture, I was in and out of consciousness, only keeping myself awake for a couple minutes at s time. The surgeon’s reactions to this shifted from taunting, to more blatant abuse, to outright fury. When he saw me waking up, he’d just scream at me, all about how I was doing this to myself, and I could stop this, if only I’d just tell him what I knew. Eventually, I got conscious, and stayed conscious. I wasn’t being held down anymore, that was for sure. The surgeon was bending down over me, and I didn’t quite understand why, until I felt him kiss my cheek. I just knew it was done. I knew it was. The table was gone, and he got up, and walked out. I looked down at myself. There was no neat bandaging, this time. Just a patchwork of cotton squares taped down to my skin. It hurt terribly, there was no better way to put it. I felt something else, though. Violated, really. The experience was painful, humiliating, and disgusting. If getting caught in the blast radius of something hadn’t changed my life, that certainly had. I was staring aimlessly at the ceiling, taking in the detail, for lack of anything to do. In doing this, I noticed something. Above me, in the center of the space, there was a badly concealed camera lens set in the ceiling. It made enough sense, a way to keep track of symptom progression, and all. I zoned out a for a while. I wished I was somewhere else.

Maybe ten minutes passed, when the curtain was pushed aside again. I tried to look a little better than I felt, as I saw it was the guy who’d found me, and the medic who’d brought me here. With some effort, I raised an arm, and weakly waved at them. I felt awful. I didn’t want to talk about what they’d done to me. The medic looked worried, but the soldier seemed a bit relieved.  
“Great news, Tae. A friend of a friend called in a favor, and your paperwork got rushed. You’re being treated as a refugee, instead of a prisoner.”  
My throat was so raw from screaming that all I could do was nod. Now both of them were concerned. Jordan came over to me, and pulled the sheet covering me down, only now did I realize I was shivering.  
“Holy hell, you’re pale. I’m gonna lift up one of these bandages, the tape coming up might sting a bit.”  
And he did just that, revealing an inflamed, unsutured, wound. He quickly replaced the bandage, looking absolutely appalled. Waves of nausea were starting to wash over me. He must have caught the look on my face, because he quickly grabbed a bucket from the edge of the room, and supported me as I sat up, and leaned over it. I think I was crying a bit. I know I definitely was after I vomited, shooting pains running through my abdomen as I did. Nausea gone, and stomach empty, I fell back against the bed, Jordan wiping my face up with a square of gauze. He looked back towards his partner.  
“Hale, I’m gonna stay with him, he’s got some kind of GI bleed that probably wasn’t there before. Can you go find just... someone in a uniform? Tell them we need a transfer to a civilian facility on this guy ASAP.”  
“Sure thing.”  
And with that, he was gone. Jordan started questioning me more or less immediately.  
“I’ve got a few questions, all yes or no. I don’t expect you to talk. Okay?”  
I nodded.  
“Have you been given any pain relief?”  
I shook my head.  
“Any at all? That includes local or general anesthesia, even any that didn’t work.”  
I shook my head.  
“Shit. Did something bad happen during the procedure?”  
I nodded, a bit more weakly, now.  
“Are you in pain now?”  
I nodded. I just wanted to sleep. I could feel some kind of tiredness creeping into me, but it felt new, somehow.  
“Alright, done with the questions. I’m gonna be brutally honest, and I think you know this, too. Your chances of living aren’t great. We’ve got jack shit for supplies, here, but you should be able to get some painkillers on your way out.”  
I wasn’t surprised. He put a hand on my head, running his fingers through my hair. That was pretty nice. I closed my eyes, just as I heard someone else come into the room, and about half a sentence she was in the middle of.  
“-evaluate him, first. Oh my gods, this place is a bloody mess. Is that all his?”  
“Should be.”  
Hale was back, it seemed. I felt something against my wrist, then my neck.  
“This guy’s pulse is about as bad as it gets, he’s practically shredded, and with the vomit, there’s definitely not much we can do for him. I’ll have a transport touching down in five, but make no mistake. This case is you guys’ pet project, now. You’re gonna be dealing with the paper work. Let’s get him outside, though.”  
I was loosely aware of being picked up, then being put down. I was restrained, but only loosely. More for my sake than someone else’s, I think. There was something warm thrown over me, a blanket, I think. I could feel it against my chest. It was rough and heavy, but it reminded me of what I had at home. I think I was moving, it was hard to say. My eyes were open, but I wasn’t seeing anything. Beyond that, I slowly drifted out of consciousness. I think it was for the best.


	2. Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tae wakes up in a promising, yet alien, place.

Tae’s conscious was long gone, lost in a sea of blood loss, exhaustion, and lingering adrenaline. There were three men on the hovercraft, one flying, and two making sure their patient didn’t die. Again, the blood was washed away from his wounds, and a bag of donor blood was fed into him, bringing back a little color to his skin, a little substance to his pulse. Sensors were stuck onto his chest, if his heart so much as considered stopping, these people would know. A “neural crown” array was placed around Tae’s head, able to gather enough information to tell that his brain was active, likely dreaming. It would be best if he didn’t wake up, a low dose of anesthesia was introduced into his system. He was bad off, but he probably wasn’t going to get much worse. A heavy blanket was thrown over him.

It only took ten minutes to move Tae from the middle of nowhere to the center Ilstran society, Keisos, a gleaming city of beauty and technology. Tae wouldn’t have seen anything like it before, he’d probably have loved the view from above, but now wasn’t the time for sightseeing.

There were six people waiting for him when Tae was brought inside, an operating room already prepared for him. Less than a minute more, and he was in, draped, and sterilized. What little messy bandaging and suturing there was was removed, and a few missed bits of shrapnel were extracted from where they were buried in his flesh, when the real issue came to light. To little surprise, Tae was bleeding, quite badly, to the point where it wasn’t even easy to tell where from. Drains were set, tips of heavy needles puncturing the man’s sides, draining the pool of what was now several people’s blood from Tae’s abdomen. It wasn’t hard to tell where things started from there, the shrapnel had nicked a few blood vessels, and his stomach had been punctured by something unknown, that didn’t seem to be related to any particular shrapnel wound. This raised several questions regarding the bruises starting to form on his wrists. For now, though, the damaged blood vessels were sealed, and the puncture was closed. With that, the wounds could be closed, and Tae could be allowed to recover on his own, more or less. Confident the bleeding was stopped, the drains were removed, and Tae was moved to a room.

—————————————————————

I woke up hazy in all senses, but remarkably comfortable. Well, I thought I’d woken up. For a bit, there, I was sure this was another dream. I’d previously been walking through a garden where every pathway I walked down lead to a new, slightly different, garden that I couldn’t leave until I found what was different about it. Waking up in an impressively clean room packed with objects I just didn’t understand was certainly dreamlike.

The place I was from, Myrion, used to be a mining empire. Sulfur, coal, industrial stuff, mostly. Eighty years ago, I think, I wasn’t allowed to know, Myrion cut itself off from the rest of the world, the Board convinced that secrecy and control would make the country successful. Mystery could create value, but it would take a while to build that mystery. So the iron walls went up, communication was restricted, and leaving? Leaving wasn’t an option, unless it could be assured you’d come back. Usually with threats. After the walls went up, though, something changed in the government, and that changed the people. The Board reverted decades old pollution laws, and the air started to change. Conspiracy theorists said that crime rates were rising, and the air was causing it, but then the theorists disappeared. Eventually, crime leveled out, law enforcement ramped things up, and the crime just stopped. People just started to disappear, not just the theorists. People who got sick, people who got hurt, people who committed violent crimes, people who owed debts. Everyone sort of knew what was happening. Nobody wanted to think about it. After the air thickened, the land within the walls started to get dirty, there was hardly a surface that wasn’t coated in sickly yellow residue, or ashy grey dust. Bathing was a luxury. Everyone had at least one chemical burn. The place became a massive chemical manufacturing plant, mostly producing gunpowder, assorted fuels, glues, and solvents. The manufacturing was utterly unavoidable. You went to school and learned about the local plant. Your science fair was sponsored by the local plant. Your physics teacher showed you slideshows on the wonders of sulfur that the plant sold him. You went to your softball practice, to play for your team, in the field the plant paid for, on the fake grass the plant makes, in uniforms the plant bought, while you play for the coach, who the plant hired, who has you “warm up” by exercising in ways that build your strength to either work the mines or work the plant so you can wake up every day and work for a man who doesn’t know your name making something you can’t pronounce so you make money for them until you die and are immediately replaced.

Worst of all, the air stained your skin. I couldn’t tell what I used to look like. Now, I was a pallid grey. I looked sick. Maybe I was sick. Who knows. If you caught me in daylight, you could see rosy hues deeper in my skin, especially now that I’d been out of the walls for a week or so.

Now, though, this situation was alien to me. This was a world I’d never existed in, except for that week to fight it. Part of me hated what I saw, now. It was beautiful, and clean, but cozy. There was a rug on the floor, next to my bed, with a pair of slippers on top of it. There was a potted plant in the corner. There was a nightstand with an alarm clock, a glass of water, and some Myrian magazines and books. I smiled, faintly. I could understand that. In strong contrast to the bedroom surroundings, however, was the medical equipment, and overall hospital ambience. There was a sharp, but not unpleasant, smell, and medical machinery in amongst the furnishings. I had an IV line in my arm, and monitors of whatever kind stuck to parts of me I wasn’t entirely sure of the importance of.

Then it sank in why I was here. The explosion, the rescue, that surgeon. I wasn’t safe here, I couldn’t be. I threw the sheet covering me off, revealing I was now dressed in light cotton clothes. I had to get out of here, I couldn’t let that happen again. I sat up, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and tried to stand up. My IV line had other ideas, however, as it was pulled out of my arm. Monitors came loose from my chest, and I stumbled forward, bracing against a wall. My arm was bleeding a little. I had to get out of here. A few more steps, and I was almost at the door. I paused to catch my breath, my chest aching, and as I looked up, I heard a knock at the door. I froze, my cowardice taking over before my training did. You’re weak, Tae. You couldn’t fend off an ant. You’ll always be weak, unless you find strength with your people. I wish I could get him out of my head. I moved back towards the wall, almost falling against it, the impact of my shoulder making more of a noise than I’d have liked. The door started to swing open, then, and I sank to the floor, knees tucked up to my chest, arms wrapped around my shins. A woman stepped into the room, with dark skin, a rich brown like I’d never seen before, and casual clothing. She was holding a notepad, and a fancy pen. She looked down at me, before crouching down to me level, not moving any closer.  
“Tae, is it?”  
Don’t tell her a thing, she just wants to get information out of you.  
“Yes.”  
“Tae, I’m Sam, I’m a counselor who specializes in people like you. Let’s get you back into bed, though, you need to rest. Do you need help getting up?”  
I buried my face in my knees, I’d started to cry. I didn’t know what I should think of any of this. I was bitter towards my home, sure, but I was afraid of these people. They were unpredictable, and with brutal consequences. Just greedy thinkers more focused on tomorrow than today. I’d seen them go bad. I’d felt them go bad. I couldn’t do that again.  
“Tae, I know you’re upset, but you’re not any safer on the floor than you are in bed.”  
“Stop talking to me like I’m a child.”  
“Okay, I’m sorry. Can you stand?”  
“D-don’t touch me!”  
“Tae, do you know why I’m here?”  
“No.”  
“I’m here because I understand you’ve had a few bad experiences on your way here. I want to make sure you know you’re safe, and that that’s never going to happen again. That surgeon is being investigated as we speak, the footage from your room is being reviewed. Nobody’s ever going to do anything like that to you again.”  
I looked up, relief washing over me. She’s lying to you, Tae. I carefully brought myself to my feet, and started moving back towards the bed. I laid down, a faint stinging sensation starting to develop where I’d been hit. Whatever was in that IV was starting to wear off. Gods, I’d been stupid. Sam pulled up a chair next to me.  
“There’s a nurse coming to hook you up again. For now, I think you should also know that I’m a deconditioning specialist. Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”  
Deconditioning? Had I been conditioned at all? Maybe, that’d explain a lot. Either way, I knew she was there to help.  
“So much. Where should I start?”  
“Wherever you’re most comfortable, or at the beginning. The first option’s best for you, the second’s best for me.”  
I took a deep breath, and let it out. This wasn’t going to be easy for me.   
“At the beginning, then.”

—————————————————————

I never knew my parents, even though I lived with them. My mom was a working woman, she spent most of her time at the plant. My dad was home more often, but he was an empty man. He didn’t talk much, he didn’t think much, he didn’t feel much. When I was fourteen, I went to work for the plant, too. Mostly doing small equipment repairs, with custodial work occasionally. I didn’t really get along with my colleagues, though it wasn’t for my own lack of trying. I was new, I was a kid, and I was eager to please. I should’ve seen it coming. At first, it was them dumping their extra unpaids on me. Then, after I turned eighteen and was allowed to do that sort of thing, it was pushing riskier and riskier jobs on me, with less and less protective gear. I got scraped. I inhaled things I probably shouldn’t have. Eventually, I got burned. So, I went to the infirmary, got patched up, and then went straight to hazard management, and explained what had happened. That might have been my biggest mistake. The next day, when I got punched in, four of the guys cornered me. Two of them grabbed my arms, and, in the break room, the rest of them beat the hell out of me. They were angry I’d triggered an investigation, now they were going to get pay cuts, and I wasn’t, because I reported them. I screamed, but either nobody heard me, or nobody cared. The workers didn’t like rats, anyway. Eventually, I stopped screaming, and just cried as I took it, going limp when I realized it didn’t matter. Then, once they realized I wasn’t fighting back, they dragged me into the break supply closet. I didn’t tell her about what happened there. I didn’t tell anyone. I just limped back to the infirmary, and called my dad. He told me I wasn’t his son anymore. My mom never picked up my calls. All I got from the infirmary was some ibuprofen and a bag of ice. I threw them both out.

—————————————————————

The nurse had got here, by this point. She set my IV again, and reattached the sensors.  
“Hey, I know you’re upset, but you’ll be safe here. Just don’t do that again, you’ll hurt yourself.”  
“Sorry, sorry. I was confused, I think.”  
I pulled the sheets back over me, while Sam processed what I’d told her.  
“I’m sorry to hear that. It seems like that might have been a pretty chaotic time for you, thrown into something unfamiliar. Do you feel similar now?”  
“I mean, yeah. Something like that. I definitely thought about it while that guy was working on me. The field surgeon.”  
She took a few notes.  
“It seems like you’ve been through a lot. It’s good that you’ve been able to tell me what you have, it’ll be easier to treat you now that I know what you’ve come from. For now, though, you should rest. I can’t do much for your mental health if your physical health takes another hit. I’ll be back later to talk with you about our cultural immersion programs.”  
“Actually, c-can we talk about that now? I don’t, I mean, I don’t exactly have anything to do here, and, I mean, I wanna know what I don’t know. I’ve had twenty one years of secrets and lies, I want to get that behind me as soon as I can. It’s not like I’ll ever be able to go back, anyway.”  
She looked a little surprised, but nodded.  
“Well, usually we start with just putting you in a room with an Ilstran. Letting you get to know each other is a good first step for introducing you to our society.”  
I wasn’t a terribly social person, but that sounded great, anyway.  
“Yeah, can you... can you do that?”  
“Of course. We’ll have you moved later today.”  
I looked out the window, it was morning, the sun starting to shine through the gaps between the buildings. It was beautiful. Not some abstract hazy glow, beams of warming light.  
“I’m going to go, give you some time to yourself.”  
“Alright.”  
Sam left me, closing the door behind her. I laid back, and took some deep breaths. I pushed the sheets back. I had to see whatever state I was in. I unbuttoned my shirt, and braved myself. Three. God, I was so nervous. Two. What if it was a mess, like last time? One. Only one way to find out.

And I threw my shirt back, hesitant to look at the damage. Honestly? It wasn’t as bad as I’d thought. My torso was wrapped in clean bandages, with some raised portions indicating additional material below. By now, the painkillers had set in again, and I was comfortable. It was finally starting to occur to me that I was safe, and free. I found myself smiling for the first time in a while, tears streaming down my cheeks, as my chest fluttered, the ever-criticizing voices fading to disparate whispers. I was safe. I was... safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback always appreciated! (And Kudos, too, I mean.)
> 
> Honestly, I just wanna hear how this made you feel.


End file.
